


Chasing Cats and Laughing Trees

by Amaryllis_Violet_Lys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaryllis_Violet_Lys/pseuds/Amaryllis_Violet_Lys
Summary: Arya and Myrcella and the ways they meet.
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

"What are you doing?"  
A young voice demanded haughtily from above her on one of the many twisting staircases of the Red Keep. The large black cat that Arya had been chasing flashed away through a small crack in the corridor wall. Annoyed, Arya spun around and was surprised to see Princess Myrcella standing above her. Arya felt her mouth part in shock from the little she had seen of the princess she would have grouped her with Sansa and the other girls she had met. Scornful, meek, soft-spoken, only interested in love songs and embroidery, as well as other girly things that were not her.   
"I said, what are you doing?"   
"I don't see what it matters what I am doing."   
Arya has been mocked too many times not to be instantly defensive, especially when in the presence of Myrcella. Myrcella is dainty and pretty, the perfect princess. The opposite of Arya. In her head, she hears Sansa laughing as Jeyne Poole calls her horse face.   
She remembers then that not only is Myrcella the crown princess, but she is also Joffrey's sister. Joffrey, the same Joffrey, who got Mycah and Lady killed and showed no remorse. What if Myrcella is like that? Myrcella must see something of Arya's thoughts on her face. Her tone softens as she continues to talk.   
"That's Balerion. I got Ser Barristan to tell me about him. He was the cat of Princess Rhaenys before she died. He's uncatchable. Tommen and I have tried enough. Did he take something of yours?"   
"You have chased cats before?!" Arya blurted out before catching herself. She looked down and bit her lip before she continued.  
"I mean... No, he hasn't. I was just... It's... My dancing master said that chasing cats was good practice. 'Cause, they're quick and all." She finishes off with an angry glare.  
Myrcella laughs. It is a high, clean sound, like bells ringing or a burbling brook. Arya hates it. Why does she have to sound so pretty when she is just like the rest?   
"Sorry. It's just..." The princess chokes out between laughs before she takes a deep breath and holds it. She lets it out and continues.  
"I have not simply tried. I have succeeded. Balerion is the only cat in this keep that I have not been able to touch."  
Though Arya wants to demand that Mrycella tells her how she doesn't want to admit that she has been unable to catch a single cat. She came close one time. She focuses on not demanding so much that what slips out is more embarrassing.  
"Show me how, please? My dancing master said he will not give me any more lessons until I have caught at least one cat. Well, no more advanced ones. He still has me run through the motions and practice how to hold the... " She trails off.   
Arya chewed on her lip, angry at herself. She had almost let Myrcella learn that she was learning to swordfight. That would have been mortifying. Arya can hear the laughter and jeers already.  
"Hold what?"  
"The needle." Arya blurts the first thing that comes to mind. She then instantly regrets it. The needle? Really?   
"I thought it was dancing lessons." The princess arched a delicate brow.  
"They are! They are Braavosi dancing lessons. In fact, I have one right now. While it was wonderful to talk, I really must be going!" Arya congratulates herself because she hadn't really lied, and she had managed to be polite. Except for that part about how it had been wonderful to talk-it really hadn't. And she really would not be late, while her lesson was starting soon, she had enough time to make it across the keep to be on time. However, she really did have to go before she embarrassed herself further.  
"Oh. Let me come with you. It's my fault anyway for keeping you. Maybe after I can teach you to catch cats." Myrcella smiles softly, with a hint of triumph. Northerners really were not good at word games, and now she would be able to see this mysterious dancing style!   
All Arya can do is nod. However, that doesn't mean she can't be petty. Princess Myrcella may have trapped her into being unable to say no to having her come along to the lesson without sounding stupid and getting caught in a lie. Nothing, however, said that she had to walk sedately to her dancing lesson. She spins on the ball of her foot like Syrio taught her and races down the corridor. If the princess can't keep up... well, that is not Arya's problem.  
Arya slows right before the doors to where her lessons take place daily. She is shocked as Myrcella comes to a stop at her side a moment later. She isn't even breathing hard, and if that isn't the biggest letdown in the world, Arya doesn't know what is. Myrcella is supposed to be pretty, dainty, soft, and girly. A proper lady. And ladies don't run, don't play in the mud, don't recognize bastard brothers, and definitely are not courteous to one.   
Don't you know, no one will ever like you if you don't act a proper lady Arya? Honestly, sometimes I don't know what to do with you. Her mother's voice, her stupid septa's voice. Look at this embroidery. Terrible. You will have to take it all out. Oh, Sansa, what a lovely piece. You call that dancing Arya. Disgraceful.   
Arya hates. Hates that this perfect princess can run through empty back halls after her and keep up. Keep up and not be out of breath. Still looking perfectly beautiful. Curling, golden blond hair pulled out of her face by intricate braids, emerald eyes sparkling. Her face is only slightly flushed from exertion, and it doesn't make her look splotchy-it makes her look full of life and even more pretty. Arya looks down, chewing her lip, and notices Myrcellas slippers with a slight heel, perfectly matched to the gold and black accents on her red dress. She hates that when compared to Myrcella, she is anathema to what parents hope for in a daughter. Who could want her as she is, with her long face which is splotchy from running? With her hair escaping the simple twin braids they were wrangled into this morning? Who could want her dressed in a pair of Robb's old breeches, and an old grey tunic, and her scruffy worn leather boots? She bit her lip until it bled, hating herself.   
"Are you okay, Lady Arya?"   
There is a gentle hand on her shoulder. The voice asking is kind, compassionate, soft-spoken as well. Not like Arya. Why does Myrcella have to bring attention to all Arya's flaws by standing next to her?! Arya already knew how wrong she was! She shook off the hand, hating, hating, hating.   
"I'm fine." She snaps.  
"As you say."   
Arya growls and swings open the door.   
"Ah, and who is this?" Syrio asks.  
He is holding two swords in his hands, and his stance is relaxed. He makes no move to bow.   
"My name is Myrcella. Lady Arya has said that you are her dancing master. She also mentioned something about needles. Naturally, I was curious, and when I heard that she had a lesson, I just had to come along and see. May I stay and observe the lesson good ser? I apologize if I made Arya late, I simply had so many questions."  
"Arya is right on time. It is good she has a friend. You may observe, of course. Let us begin, yes?"   
Syrio throws one of the wooden practice swords at Arya, and she fumbles to catch it. Her cheeks flush with shame as she gets into position. She turns sideways and lets her back arm sweep out behind her. Her front arm points the sword at Syrio, her elbow pulled in close to her body. Her knees bend slightly. Across from her, Syrio drops into a similar stance. His swords twirled around his hand as he waits for her to make the first move. Arya notices Myrcella moving to the arch of one of the windows to observe and jumps into motion. She lets out a battle cry as she leaps at Syrio.   
The fight is quick-Syrio is a much better swordsman, and Arya is still learning. In a matter of moments, Arya has been disarmed, and the wooden sword in Syrio's hand points to her neck. Arya bites her lip in shame, for the second time in a watch. This is almost as bad as the first lesson she ever had, where her father had seen her be defeated in seconds! And it had been weeks since then! Three weeks sure, but still!  
"Five minutes. An improvement. Your balance is still off, as is your stance, but you are faster, and you hold the sword more naturally now. Very good! But you are still not seeing. More practice is needed."  
Arya smiles at the praise. This quickly changes to a scowl when she hears Myrcella start clapping.   
"That was wonderful dancing!" Myrcella looked like she would say more. Yet, before she could, a kingsguard dressed in pure white interrupted. He looks harried and nervous, though he lights up when he sees the princess.  
"Princess Myrcella. There you are. Your mother is expecting you for lunch in her chambers. Allow me to escort you."  
"Of course. Thank you, Ser Arys." Myrcella said as she smoothed out her skirt.  
Myrcella smiles and dips her head at Syrio and Arya before she swept out of the room, Arys following a step behind. Arya stares at the door for a moment before picking back up her practice sword.   
"Shall we go again?" She asks Syrio with an eager grin. Myrcella may be a perfect princess, but Arya will be a master swordsman.  
"You will not be needing the sword. We will practice your seeing without eyes and your balance." Syrio stated as he pulled out a strip of black cloth from a pocket. A blindfold. Arya mentally steeled herself for bruises as she took the blindfold and tied it around her head.


	2. With Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrcella and Arya meet again and cats are chased. The capturing is debatable though.

The next time Myrcella and Arya meet, Arya is busy balancing on one foot at the top of some stairs.   
"Aren't you scared you are going to fall?" Myrcella asks as she walks towards Arya from the back. Arya stays silent until Myrcella is settling down on the stair below her. She is alone like she had been when she demanded to know what Arya was doing that day. Arya wonders how often she is alone and if she ever gets lonely. Arya feels a strange mix of sorrow and anger at this thought and pushes it to the back of her mind.   
"I won't fall. Don't be stupid."  
Myrcella's face blanks for a moment before her sweet smile comes back to her face.   
"Of course. How silly of me." She pauses. "I was wondering if now might be a good time for me to show you my cat catching technique? I offered to show you the last time we talked."  
"I don't need your help to catch a stupid cat. Now go away. I am busy." Arya snaps as she wobbles. She places the foot she had been holding up back on the ground.  
"Oh! Have you caught a cat then? That is wonderful. Truly. I am so happy for you. Maybe we can compare cat catching styles then."   
Myrcella's demeanor has changed. It is colder. Sharper. More like Queen Cersei than a sweet, quiet, 8-year-old princess. Which if Arya could believe the descriptions were what Myrcella should be. Not that she had gone around looking for information about the princess in the week since she had last seen the princess. That would have been stupid. Arya had instead spent her time doing smart things. Things like ignoring her sister when she made belittling comments or preened about how she was to be queen. And holding her own for longer than five minutes in spars against Syrio. And repeating his mantras over and over until she had them memorized. If she had listened to conversations about princess Myrcella, she was just practicing her sneaking skills. Not that she wanted to know more about a potential friend. Definitely not. Even if, by all accounts, Myrcella had all the beauty of her mother, but none of the temperament. Perfect friend material.   
Arya chewed her lip. Myrcella had been nothing but kind so far.   
" Fine. But you show me your way of catching cats first!"  
"No."   
"Huh. But why?"   
"I am busy now."   
"No, you aren't! You are sitting right there. Doing nothing!"  
"You are standing right there, yet you were busy."   
"I was training. Improving my balance. But I am done now, and chasing cats is always good training."   
"Well, now I am busy training."  
"Training what?"   
"My mind. Obviously."  
"Liar."  
Myrcella simply hums and closes her eyes.   
Arya has no idea what to do. She has a feeling Myrcella is mocking her, but what if she really is training? Arya knows that Syrio gives her some weird training things to do. Her father had commented on it when he had seen her balancing and saw her bruises. He had offered another teacher! As if learning to swordfight didn't lead to bruises. Besides, water dancing was a lifestyle, not just learning to fight. At least, that was what Syrio said. Maybe Myrcella had to do the same thing except with princess stuff. What if she could help. Friends help each other, right?  
"Training for what?"   
"Princess things. You would not understand."  
"Could too understand! I am descended from Northern royalty! That's means I'm a princess too!"  
Myrcella sighed.   
"That's not how it works. You have to be born to a king and queen to be a prince or a princess. Not just be descended from royalty. Your father might be Hand of the King, but he is not a King in the North. That is why you are not a threat. Viserys and Daenerys are."  
"Who are they?" Arya asked. She had never heard those names before.  
"They are the last two Targaryens left alive. Father rants about them all the time. Dragonspawn, he calls them. He wants them dead. If they are dead, they can't be used as a rallying point for Father's enemies to get behind."  
"They could be probably. Like how in the stories, the hero loses someone important and beats the evil because..."  
"Right. But the Targaryens are the threat. If Daenerys and Viserys grow old enough to start gathering allies. If they die now, then no one will really care enough to raise a fuss. We can't care about the fact that they are children becuase they aren't us. That's what Mother says."  
"So anyway... Mind training. How and why?" Arya says. She is slightly uncomfortable with how calmly Myrcella recites the words of her parents about killing children. Was that Princess stuff? If she was a princess, would she be a threat? Would they kill her too?  
"It's called meditating. It is a practice from Yi Ti. A spice merchant talked about it to a kitchen maid, who then told her friends. You think about things and try and clear your mind. There are also breathing exercises. They help keep you calm."   
"Like praying?"  
"No. In the sept, you have to think about being pious and the gods, and how much you want them to do things that aid you."  
"No. Not that praying. Praying in the weirwood. You think about things or talk about things and clear your mind, and sometimes the old gods speak back to you!"  
"Oh. No. Apparently, meditating is used in fighting styles in Yi Ti. But since we don't have the fighting styles, it's just practice."  
"For what?"  
"For keeping calm. For clearing your head. For taking the time to breathe and process. So you don't erupt."  
"Oh. That's princess stuff?"  
"Yes. Like when you have someone being rude to you, and you are having a bad day. You want to scream, but you can't. Screaming is not done. It's rude. So you meditate."   
"Oh. Oh. That makes sense. So about chasing cats?" Arya does not know if Myrcella is talking about her being rude. Would it be presumptuous to say sorry? It would most definitely be awkward for her. Maybe she should just say it. Would it help? Probably not. She won't.   
" I suppose."  
" I'll show you how to properly chase cats. Not whatever you have been doing!" She says instead of an apology. This is easier.   
Myrcella seems to agree becuase she giggles as she stands up.   
"The method that has caught you a grand total of what? One cat? Two?"   
"Shut up. It will be two when we are done. Let's go."   
Arya does not mention that the only cat she has caught with her method had been sleeping, old, and slow. That information is not extraneous.   
Arya explains as she runs around the Red Keep.  
"First, we have to find a cat! Then we sneak up on it. Then we catch it. If it runs, we chase it until it stops and then try again. It's best when they are sleeping. Though they wake up when you grab them."  
"And scratch," Myrcella says with a laugh.  
"And scratch." Arya agrees sagely.

They finally find a cat, a pretty tortoiseshell curled in a patch of sunshine in a courtyard. Arya and Myrcella draw to a stop as they peer at the cat.  
"Perfect. Watch and learn." Arya says with a smirk.   
She slips off her boots and starts sneaking toward the cat, rolling her feet inward from the edges. She has no idea if this actually works, but she has read that spreading their weight across their feet is how wolves avoid sinking into the snow. Therefore it is worth a try becuase it would spread out her weight so that her feet did not make a sound.   
The cat sprang up and raced away. It had heard something and...  
"This is your fault! It would have worked, but you must have made a sound. You scared away the cat."  
Myrcella blinked at her innocently.  
"I am sorry. You must be mistaken. I have been silent and still. It is more likely to have been you who scared the cat. Now, I believe you said we chase the cat?"  
Arya glowered. It most definitely had not been her fault! Besides, no one else was around: the ladies had a sewing circle or something going on-Sansa had mentioned it at breakfast to Jeyne Poole. The lords were all out hunting or politicking or some mix of both. All that was left were the servants, Arya, Myrcella, and the cats.  
"Why are you not at the sewing thing with all the other ladies?"  
"I could ask the same of you. Are you not a lady, Lady Arya?"  
"I wasn't invited. Besides, my embroidery is shit anyway." Arya thrilled at her audacity-swearing before a princess!  
"But you are the princess. So you must have been invited."  
"I figured chasing cats would be more fun. I was going to spend the time with Tommen. But I had not found him when I ran into you. Besides, they forgot to invite me. Mother was drunk one night and told me that was my fate. To be forgotten and discarded and only useful for marriage."  
"Oh. " Arya had no idea what to say to that. Anything she thought up in her head seemed awful and inconsiderate. The two stood there in silence for a while.   
"I suppose I did promise to show you how to catch cats in a proper way/" Myrcella finally broke the silence.   
Arya nodded and followed her as she took a twisted route down towards the kitchens and storerooms.  
"There are always mice around the storerooms. Some of the servants in the kitchen leave out scraps for the cats. So it is always easy to catch cats there." Myrcella explained.  
  
When they got to the kitchens, Myrcella quickly grabbed some scraps from the luncheon. There were no cats in sight. With a sigh, she leads Arya towards the storerooms.  
In one of the storerooms, they found a cat. It was thin, and its dark gray coat was tattered. Myrcella motioned for Arya to crouch down and did the same herself. Then she pulled out the table scraps from the kitchen and slowly tossed one towards the cat. The cat spun and looked at the two of them before sniffing the food.   
"It's good. See?" Myrcella crooned at the cat as she took a small bite of one of the table scraps left in her hand. Arya was pretty sure it was a pork rind. The cat stared distrustfully for a moment before eating the food. "Do you want more? I have more, see? Come here, come on." Myrcella crooned as she lowered her hand with the rest of the scraps. Slowly the cat approached. When it was in reach, Myrcella let the food fall to the floor, and the cat immediately started eating the food. When it was done, before it could dart off, Myrcella reached out a hand and stroked down its back. Soon the cat was purring. "See. 'You win more friends with honey than with vinegar' at least, I think that's how the saying goes. But chasing the cats tires you out more than they get tired out, and they know this keeps better than you or I. This gives the same results without the bother."  
Arya had honestly been amazed at Myrcella, but she wouldn't admit that now. Not when the princess was disparaging her cat catching style.  
"that's not how you catch cats. You have to pick them up and carry them elsewhere for it to be proper catching. And you ruined the cat chasing technique I was showing you!"  
Myrcella laughed at that, and the cat startled and raced off.   
"Next time then. You will show me proper catching."  
Arya was sure there was a barb in there somewhere but still nodded.  
"Next time then."  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece of fanfiction posted on AO3. I read the books and watched the show and this is what the result was. It has been living in my head for a while and I finally decided to write and post it. Becuase I think Myrcella is an underrated character and little Arya is quite fascinating to me. In case it wasn't clear I am going with book ages, but as it has been a while since I read the books and I don't really remember the first season of GOT there will be some smudging of dates and times. Also they never really gave the exact passing of time except for a vague 6-7ish years, I think. Should double check. So remember time is relative. But Arya is 9 and Myrcella is 8.


End file.
